Page 71 of Five

Five would say something like… Because you’re sweet, Rory. And trusting. A princess.

Naive is more like it.

“Please form two lines facing your pairing,” the blonde woman says. “Men on this side and woman on the other.” She turns to us and nods, indicating we should do the same, only we’re to stay up here on stage. Tera scrunches in close to me, Mia is on her left, and Kallie is on the other side of Mia. Frank is across from me, smiling like he’s about to win the lottery.

Hmm. Maybe he is. Not that I’m anything special, especially since he’s practically blue-blood royalty in this country. But in the real world, Frank Fulbright knows he’s not my type. And yet… here I am. Pairing with him.

“Rory,” Tera whispers as the blonde woman continues to talk. I desperately want to concentrate on what she’s saying because this is it, right? The secret. Why we’re all here. What’s coming next… but Tera whispers again, “Rory.” More insistent this time. “Look at what they’re holding in their hands.”

I look down at Frank’s hand to see a ring. With a diamond big enough to sparkle in the dramatic lighting from above. And when I look at the other men up on the platform with us, they’re all holding rings too.

“We really are getting married, aren’t we?” Tera’s voice is shaky. And when she reaches for my hand again, she’s ice cold and trembling.

“No,” I whisper back, turning my head so Frank can’t read my lips. “Don’t be—”

“Tonight,” the blonde woman says, interrupting me, “you will pledge your loyalty to Palladium by pledging your life to your pairing.”

Everyone realizes what’s happening in that moment. Because all the girls begin to squeal as all the men drop down on one knee.

I look at Tera. She’s squeezing my hand so hard, it hurts. Just smile, I mouth. She nods, paints one on, and then I force myself to follow my own advice.

I am not marrying Frank Fulbright. No. Fucking. Way.

But this can’t be a wedding. Next week—Eat Meet—that’s the wedding, I realize. This is just the engagement.

“Gentlemen,” the blonde woman says. “Commence your pledges.”

The room erupt with speech. Coordinated speech. Memorized speech. The question.

“Will you, Aurora Shrike,” Frank says, and every man in the room says it with him, substituting the name of their pairing for mine, “pair with me in the name of Palladium House?”

That’s it. One simple question. Not ‘will you marry me,’ which is a relief, even though they’re asking the same thing. ‘Will you pair with me?”

And every woman looks at the diamond rings being held out to them from the men at their feet, and gasps.

Even me. Even Tera. Even Mia. Because none of us knew this was coming.

Kallie’s voice rings out in the momentary silence of the cathedral-sized room. A resounding, “Yes.”

And we all repeat the same answer.

Even me. Even Tera.

Because what choice do we have in this moment? Make a scene? Why would we do that? We’re standing in the most elite eating club at Princeton University, facing the most elite men, with the most promising futures, and we are being asked to join them in their quest for greatness.

So this is how it’s done? This is how American royalty is made.

I feel very stupid as Frank slips that engagement ring on my finger. I feel very naive, and small, and silly. Because all my life I thought people married for love.

But they don’t. They marry for status. For power. And money.

The room erupts in cheers as the men stand and pull us towards them.

The music starts and we are dancing. His hand has mine. The other is wrapped around my waist, gripping it tightly, trying to possess me as we twirl.

I say nothing. Just smile as the room spins and spins and spins.

There’s no way in hell I will spend the rest of my life as Mrs. Frank Fulbright.